


Eta Aquarids

by Poochee



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Body Modification, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, First Meetings, Flirting, M/M, Monsters, Slight horror, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-08-25 09:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16658483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poochee/pseuds/Poochee
Summary: “Just after two in the morning, another large meteor came falling from the sky late last night. This sighting makes it the third within one month – a surprising new record for New York. Witnesses say it broke through the atmosphere and lit up the sky with a bright, red glow for roughly ten seconds before it landed in Cunningham Park. Experts aren’t exactly sure why these meteors are falling so suddenly and within close succession, often leaving a trail of damage where they land, but the research is ongoing. A local man had this to say—”DISCONTINUED





	1. Chapter 1

It was a nice enough night at the park; quiet and serene as it was meant to be. Local stoner and all-around good guy, Alec, took his seat on his favourite bench with a soft sigh and relaxed. Life was good, he concluded as he took a sneaky glance left and right before reaching into his pocket. A few hits wouldn’t hurt.

Oh, yeah, life was _real_ good…

He watched the night sky lazily, inhaling long and exhaling slow. There was nothing like having a smoke after a long day of doing….nothing. Nothing super important, anyway. Just his shit job that worked him to the bone and his even shittier girlfriend that leeched off his income. This was his only time for some peace and quiet, and he intended on enjoying it – even if it was at an empty park in the middle of the night.  
  
Just as he flicked his lighter again to relight his joint, a red light flashed and for a second his stomach dropped, thinking he’d been caught – but it wasn’t the cops.

It was the sky.

Blinking his bloodshot eyes hard, Benj watched the glowing orb with a slack mouth, gasping sharply and ducking down as it came racing above his head like a wave of heat. Popping back up, joint dangling from his lip, he pushed himself up from his favourite bench and hesitated. It was a meteor, right? And didn’t scientists pay a ton of money to get their nerdy hands on one?

He stumbled around the bench to follow the trail of fresh earth.

“Fuck, am I gonna be rich?” He mumbled to himself, stuffing his joint and lighter away as the trail disappeared into the trees. After a few moments, now thick in the shrubs, he saw the rising smoke and heard a gentle sizzling, the scent of dirt and something unknown permeating the air. “I wonder what space smells like,” he hummed, pulling out his phone clumsily, “Alright, let’s find this rock—”

He flicked the flashlight on and found a grotesque pile of sharp limbs with four large, black eyes staring at him. It made a quiet clicking noise, and began to clutch desperately at the dirt, as if it was trying to climb out of the crater it had made.

Heart stopped and breath stuck in his throat, Benj drawled out a disbelieving, “Duuude…”

The thing clicked again, and then echoed in horrific, garbled English, “Duuude…”

Freaked, Benj stepped back into soft earth just as he was about to run, only managing to trip and fall onto his back in result. Winded and unable to scream, he scrambled backwards as he watched the creature begin to shift and transform to pale skin, long limbs, a face – looking more and more human the longer it stared at him.

It was copying him.

Fear and anger suddenly taking a hold of him, Benj yelled, “Fuck you, Thing! You ain’t taking my identity and killing humanity!” and when he felt a stone under his hand, he grabbed it from the warm dirt and chucked it at the humanoid.

He got to his feet and ran as fast as he could, leaving the creature behind to screech in pain.

+

 

So, the plan: bust in, do a cool song/killing montage, and deliver that sweet, sweet pain. He’d already shot the guy in the dick when he tried to run, killed the other guys in the room, and now was the best part.

“L-Listen,” the pathetic shit begged in an annoyingly high-pitched voice, tears streaming down his beet red face, “I-I know what I did was wrong, okay?! I knew I woulda been caught eventually, but you don’t have to do this, please! _Please_!”

“ _Ugh_ , I love it when you beg,” Wade moaned, “Y’know who sent me? C’mon, guess.” He pressed the gun into the guy’s neck, “Guess!”

The man cried out in anguish, “I don’t fucking know! I got enemies, okay?! Any one of them coulda!”

“You’re right, I don’t really know or care. I just like to hear your voice.” Wade hummed with a little smile behind his mask. Watching the shitshow beg was fun, but he was also really annoying. And he was an ugly crier.

Suddenly, he heard a whimper and a muffled scream from the other room. Wade growled in annoyance, “Jesus, this is a two bedroom apartment! You have _way_ too many people living here!” And pulled himself off the man and away from the wall, cocking his handgun, “Be right back. Don’t move!” And just to make sure, he shot the man in the thigh before heading towards the bedroom across the room.

He kicked the door open and froze. At least ten girls and women were in there, tied up, beaten and bruised.

The job had seemed simple enough at first. Track this asshole down, tear his shit up, and leave. But sometimes there are bumps in the road, and sometimes it’s too late to swerve and avoid it.

With jobs like this, Wade Wilson rarely ever took the high road. What was even the point? Saving people out of the goodness of his heart? Nah. Wade likes _money_ , and _guns_ , and some good old fashioned revenge. But, sometimes things hit too close to home and it rips his heart out of his chest because god dammit, his heart was enlarged. Dangerously so.

He sees Vanessa’s face in theirs, and swallows thickly.

“Y’know, raping and killing girls is super fuckin’ lame. You shoulda stuck to just dealing blow.” He called behind him, reaching down to his boot and pulling out the hidden knife there. He went over to a blonde, who looked fearful but still relatively healthy, and cut her bound hands. Wordlessly, he placed his knife on the bed and walked out, shutting the door quietly as if he’d just put a child to sleep.

He watched the pathetic fuck crawl across the floor towards the kitchen for a moment, feeling his blood beginning to boil beneath his skin. Walking over, deathly quiet, Wade stepped on that fresh wound in the man’s thigh just to hear him scream.

“ _Really_?” Wade sighed, as if disappointed as he kicked the guy onto his back, “Is it really necessary? Cocaína just wasn’t cutting it anymore?” He crouched low, pressing his gun against the man’s temple, “Or is this some sort of fucked up hobby?”

Blubbering, the man hiccupped, “I-I know you’re here to kill me, but I can pay more! You see that pile of cash on the table? That’s yours! All of it, take it, just don’t kill me!”

He dared a glance over to the table, seeing the stacks of cash through his mask, and gasped as he pressed his gun harder into the man’s temple, “All that? For lil’ ol’ _me_?” He crooned like a Southern belle.

With a grin, he said in a chipper voice, “Why, thanks!” And pulled the trigger.

He stepped over one of the bodies as he made his way over to the table, singing, “ _There ain’t no rest for the wicked!_ ” He reached into one of the pouches on his belt and shook open an old, reusable shopping bag, “ _Money don’t grow on treeeees!_ ”

After a quiet moment, and a bag full of cash, Wade huffed loudly with a pout: “ _’Pay more’_ ? Oh, honey, _no_.” And skipped out of the apartment happily, not wanting to be there when those girls began to file out.

Back on the dark streets, Wade glanced at his watch with a hum. Just after two in the morning, not bad. He made some pretty good time. “Hmm, what should daddy buy first?” He wondered aloud, twirling his bag around his finger, and stopped in his tracks in front of an alley. His _favourite_ alley, with his favourite dumpster!

Time to take a piss.

Skipping happily into the dimly lit alley and humming a Carly Rae Jepsen classic, Wade hung his grocery bag on the dumpster as he unzipped his pants, beginning to whistle as he emptied his bladder against the brick wall.

A sudden yell of, “Gimme your facking money!” caught his attention, though. He looked both ways with a frown, but no one was around to steal his loot, so it wasn’t him that was being mugged. Oh well.

But the following gunshot made him jump and stop peeing for a moment, and he _may_ have screamed as something fell into the dumpster next to him with a hard ‘ _thunk’_.

“What the shit…” He breathed, leaning over and peeking into the metal container, curious.

A soft groan came from the pile of garbage, “Duuude…gimme your facking money…"

Wade blinked, “I don’t think you’re really in any position to be demanding anything, buddy pal.” He tucked himself back into his pants before hoisting himself over the edge of the dumpster, taking a closer look as he watched the garbage shift around, a large piece of cardboard finally moving to reveal a literal angel.

It was a piece of jailbait made of long limbs, covered with ratty clothes and a head of fluffy brown hair. He looked young, but not too young, and those _eyes_. Big, black doe eyes with the longest eyelashes he’d ever seen. They were almost too freakishly big to be human, but they held the universe and Wade was lost to them.

“Jesus,” he breathed in awe, “You come here often, doll? ‘Cuz this happens to be my favourite dumpster and I’ve never seen you around here before.”

The boy whimpered softly, lifting one of his long legs out of the trash to examine it and Wade caught sight of the bullet wound on his calf when the pant leg was pulled up. It was just a graze, but probably still hurt like a bitch due to it being a bit deep.

Appalled, Wade gasped and exclaimed, “Who _dare_ hurt you, sweet thing?! A lovely, innocent, sweet thing like you!”

“Duuude…”

Wade hummed, frowning again as something occurred to him and he looked up the brick wall. The first escape was on the other end of the building, and there was no way he would survive a fall from the roof, garbage cushion or not.

There was only one explanation.

“You’re an actual angel, aren’t you?” Wade asked, resting his cheek in his palm as he watched the other struggle to get up.

Three men appeared at the alleyway and Wade glanced up at them, watching them freeze and whisper amongst themselves for a moment. The guy in the middle had a gun in his hand, and he looked absolutely rabid, and he must have been since he shouted at Wade: “You see a little shit go by here?!”

Wade flicked his gaze back down as he saw the boy curl up with another soft sound, and quickly pieced it all together. There was no way these dickheads were harming _his_ angel. Glancing up again, he called back, “The only shit I see here is _you_ ! And the shit behind this dumpster! It’s gotta be human, because no animal shits like that! It’s nasty—does anyone have any consideration for people trying to _piss_ beside dumpsters anymore?!”

The thug looks put off by that, but at least he knows better than to pick a fight with the Merc with a Mouth, and the group stalks off in search of the boy.

Glancing down again, Wade watches the pretty thing for a moment before asking, “You wanna get outta there?”

+

 

It was probably not the best idea to take the starting-college-in-the-fall twink to his apartment, but he wasn’t just going to _leave_ him in there. That would be far too cruel, and he was way too beautiful to lay in trash in a dumpster. He was better off laying in Wade’s trash, in his apartment.

“Careful!” Wade squealed as he kicked a pizza box out of their way, grabbing the boy’s side tightly as he helped him limp into the apartment and set him down on the well-loved couch with a sigh.

Pouting, the boy lifted his leg and pulled the ratty pants up again, which were now stained with his very, very, _very_ dark blood.

“Damn, you must be the AB type,” Wade whistled, crouching down in front of the other and reaching for the injured leg, “C’mon, lemme see…”

And then the boy _hissed_ at him, bringing his leg close to his chest. Like, freakishly close.

Baby boy was flexible.

“That’s a thought for another time,” Wade decides out loud, and raises both hands to come off as harmless, “I won’t hurt you. I just wanna look, ‘kay? You’re bleeding.”

There’s a moment when they just stare at each other, one pouting with a glare and the other patient, and neither say a word.

Speaking of not saying a word, Wade breaks the silence. “Do you even speak English?”

The boy shakes his head.

Wade gives him a look that he probably can’t see from under the mask. “No? ‘Cause it seems like you understand it. Right?”

He nods slowly, giving Wade a weird look with that beautiful face.

“God, you’re so pretty it _hurts_ ,” Wade whines, “What’s your name, buttercup?”

The boy speaks and Wade has no idea what the fuck just came out of his mouth, or if it’s even a language at all--did he just have an aneurysm??

“One more time.” He requests politely.

He _might_ have heard a ‘P’ in there somewhere, but it could just be his imagination.

“That’s a bit hard to roll off the tongue,” he huffs, “How about a nickname? Hm?”

The boy tilts his head to the side like a puppy and Wade screams.

“Sorry,” he apologizes after the boy grabs a cushion and tries to hide behind it, “I didn’t mean to scream. It just happened. How about we call you…”

God, he was terrible at names.

He hears the door open behind him and whips around on his heel, pulling his handguns out and pointing them at the silhouette in the doorway, the hallway light shining around them like a halo.

“Don’t take another step! Or the pretty boy gets it!” Why was he threatening to kill his angel??

“Jesus christ, Wade - relax!”

Oh, it’s just Weasel. Wade stuffs his guns back into their rightful places and grins from behind the mask - which immediately turns into a frown, “Hey, asshole! What happened to taking care of my apartment while I was gone?!”

Weasel flicked the light on before shutting the door behind him, scratching at his scruffy jaw, “Yeah, well, shit hit the fan and covered my entire bar. Had to put your little abode on the backburner for a bit.” Weasel frowns and sniffs the air, “Ugh, I’m pretty damn sure I took out the garbage the last time I was here. Why’s it smell like a landfill in here?”

“Yeah, well, when you’re gone on a job for a while, you tend to--hey!!” Wade gasped after glancing over his shoulder to see an empty couch, “Where’d he go?!” He rushed over to the couch and began to upturn the cushions, as if the was looking for loose change rather than a fully grown person.

“...I don’t really wanna know, but where’d who go?” Weasel asked, tossing the keyring into a nearby bowl, “Don’t tell me you kidnapped someone and are keeping them hostage. Didn’t you mention a ‘pretty boy’ just a minute ago?”

Wade’s looking under the couch and then under the kitchen table, “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Wade hums, pondering for a moment as he looked at the pantry. He stalked over quietly, grabbed the doorknob, and yanked it open.

Nothing. Just Doritos.

Closing it quietly, and finally looking over at his best friend, Wade opened his mouth only to make a little squeak.

His boy was upside down on the ceiling, in the dark little corner behind Weasel.

“Hey, you ever watch The Little Vampire?” Wade asked casually, leaning against the pantry door, watching the boy eye up Weasel as if he were a snack.

“Uhh...no?” Weasel gave him a look, “Wade, are you trying to tell me something?”

“HA! As if I’d ever tell you that I was a vampire,” Wade felt his heart skip a beat as the boy’s big eyes connected with his, as if he could see right through his mask. “I just don’t want you to freak out when I tell you that there’s a person hanging from the ceiling behind you, kinda like in The Little--”

He can’t finish because Weasel’s screaming and the angel’s hissing angrily again and Wade’s gotta get control of this situation.

“Wait! Weasel-- _stop!_ ” He screeches as he pulls the meat tenderizer from his friend’s hands, just before he threw it at the boy across the room. “Stop, relax! He’s an angel!”

Weasel gave him a look again, eyes wild, “Wade, I know you got a fucked up sense of humor, but that’s _not_ an angel! That--that--I don’t even know what the _fuck_ that is!”

Wade wraps his best friend up in his arms tightly, a chokehold disguised as a loving embrace, and pressed his mouth close to his ear, “Shh! Don’t insult him, if he can climb walls then he can probably eat you, too.”

“Oh, yeah, cause that _totally_ makes sense--”

“Listen, calm down and I’ll tell you what happened!”

As he went through the details leading up to this precious moment, he slowly let him out of the embrace, until Weasel was leaning against the kitchen counter trying to process it all.

“So...you took a stranger home with you because you actually thought he was an angel?”

“ _Is_ an angel. We still have yet to disprove that.”

They both spared a look to the corner of the living room again, where the boy was making the soft clicking sound, staring at Wade.

Weasel raised his voice again in panic, “That is _not--_ ”

“What do you know about angels, anyway?!”

“Nothing! But I sure as hell know that it isn’t one!” Weasel looked to Wade again, “Have you tried asking what the fuck it is, at least?”

Wade opened his mouth, paused, and then shook his head, “No. All signs pointed to ‘angel’.”

“You’re unbelieve-- _okay_ ,” Weasel huffed through his nose, “How about you ask it? Hm?”

“He doesn’t speak much English. And he’s pure muscle, with big beautiful doe eyes.”

“Does he sparkle in the fucking sun, too? Who cares what he looks like, Wade! He could fucking eat you in your sleep!"

“Okay, one: that’s hot. Two, I’m keeping him until he finds a way back home! Don’t you see the obvious plot here?!”

Weasel closes his eyes and counts to ten before looking at his best friend again, “Okay, no, but...well, what _do_ you know about him? Does he even have a name?”

Oh, shit. Wade looks over at the boy again, tries and fails to replay that weird name in his head, and looks to his friend with a moment’s anticipation before saying, “...Peter.”

“Peter?” Weasel laughs sharply, “Yeah, okay, a vampire-angel named Peter. Got it.” He turns to ‘Peter’ slowly and looks up at that corner he’s in before shaking his head with a sigh, “Wade, man...you’re gonna need some help with this one - ‘cause I sure as hell ain’t helping!” The bastard rushes towards the door again and waves at Wade from over his shoulder, calling, “See ya!!” Before he’s gone with a slam of the door.

“Typical!” Wade shouts, slapping a plastic cup off of the counter and onto the ground, then turns to Peter as he hisses again, as if he was trying to tell Wade to calm the fuck down.

“And you!” Wade points a finger at him as he goes over to the corner of the room, “You weren’t any help, hissing and scaring him like that!!”

Peter stares at him for a moment before squaring his beautiful jaw and Wade’s shoulders slump in defeat.

“Oh, baby, I can’t stay mad at you!” He sighs, then opens his arms wide, “Come to daddy. Let’s kiss and make up, hm?”

He doesn’t expect Peter to actually jump into his arms, but he does, and instead of a kiss Wade is pushed to the ground and Peter hovers above him, clicking quietly as he examines his mask.

“Fucking ow!” Wade whines, but the pain’s already gone and he pushes at Peter’s shoulder - and is met with muscle again, like stone, and Wade knows he can’t push him off. “Jesus, you’re just like Colossus--”

Peter shifts back onto his heels, crouched above Wade’s thighs, and he takes the opportunity to sit up with a sigh. “ _Thank_ you,” he says curtly, pretending to brush dirt off of his arms and shoulders, “Now, how about we…” he swallowed thickly, feeling nervous as those black eyes stare into his again, “Do you have x-ray vision, by chance?”

Peter shakes his head minutely, and then lifts his hand to Wade’s mask to touch it with his fingertips, trailing over the leather and the seams, a thoughtful look on his face.

Well, might as well bite the bullet and get it over with, Wade decides. “Wanna see the pizza face under this thing?” He asks quietly.

Peter nods once.

And he makes soft, almost quizzical noises as he takes in Wade’s exposed face, instantly raising his hand but stopping just an inch away. His big, black eyes are staring into his own, his lips parting in unspoken words. He blinks hard, and when he opens them again, they’re the same chocolate colour as Wade’s.

Wade’s breath is gone and he’s two seconds away from passing out from the lack of oxygen in his brain.

“Did...did you just…?” He isn’t speechless very often, but…

Peter blinks those big, brown doe eyes and makes a soft kitten sound, a tiny smile tugging on his lips.

Wade doesn’t even care when the other starts touching his face, because what the _fuck_. Wade takes a good look at him, his brows pinched. The boy looked around nineteen or twenty, with sharp features and those big, brown eyes. Still, he looked...different. His skin was unnaturally smooth and hairless, his body had felt like it was pure tensed muscle, and he clicked instead of speaking.

Okay, maybe Weasel was right. Something just wasn’t adding up.

And when Peter’s skin rippled, mirroring Wade’s fucked up appearance, he reached up in a panic to cup the boy’s jaw, his eyes frantic as he whispered, “No, no, don’t--don’t do that, stop!”

Peter’s brows twitched and his skin smoothed out again, a curious and confused expression clear on his face.

Relieved, Wade sighed in a huff and let him go.

And tensed again as Peter reached out to him in a flash of movement, cupping his face as he’d done and pulled him in close to touch their foreheads together. Looking into those big eyes, Wade saw an endless abyss, the pupils swallowing him whole with a flash of what he can only describe as a dark light.

He sees something he can’t understand, a place he hasn’t seen before that no human ever has. There’s a faint buzzing in one ear that goes through his head and exits the other, and he swears he can taste sounds and colours. Then, it all seems to _click_ \- like a memory he forgot to remember that was never his to begin with. Peter. There’s pain and loss, anger and fright, and the taste of sweet copper. Beings he’s never seen before, an attack so catastrophic that he can’t even begin to understand. He manages to escape, and needs to hide. Everything is fast and flashes through his mind, until he sees a man. He feels his skin and bones crack and change, trying to shape himself into something completely different -- and there’s pain again. A group of men, shouting at him and holding a gun to his face, feeling and reflecting anger, and then more pain, and he climbs up a wall and around the building to fall into a metal container.

And as he sees himself through those big eyes, Wade startles, gasping and throwing his head back, scrambling away from Peter until he connects with the couch and tries to come back to his own body.

His chest heaves, and he’s dripping sweat, staring at the equally exhausted boy across from him.

“Pete…” he gasps softly, “You…”

Perhaps he’s way in over his head, but he knows he didn’t find Peter on coincidence. A flutter of protective instincts flares in his chest as he watches the younger man pant and sit on the floor, looking so lost and confused.

Wade licks his dry lips, his breath finally evening out, “Your home...it’s gone, isn’t it?”

Peter nods, a frown on his face.

“And those… _things,_ they're looking for you?"

Another nod, somehow even sadder. He looks into Wade’s eyes again and there’s a flicker of understanding between them, something almost telepathic but not. Vanessa flashes across his mind.

“Shit.” He breathes, “You, sharing your....memories. That was a two-way street, huh?”

Peter nods.

Another flicker, and Wade knows that it was to help them understand each other.

“Well,” he laughs dryly, “I think you’re the only being in this entire universe that knows all the fucked up shit that goes on in here.” He motions to his head.

Peter crawls over to him, those eyes communicating things that words never could, and Wade sighs in defeat.

+


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, he’s mentally bonded to an alien, so what? At least now they can communicate, on some level. Peter still only knows a handful of words, but he actually called ‘ _Wade!_ ’ last night from the shower when he didn’t know how to shut off the water. They’re making good progress.

The morning after was strange, because Wade hasn’t been home in months and he woke up on his couch with Peter perched on the couch arm, watching him sleep.

“ _Jesus!_ ” He shouted in surprise and fell off the couch with a hard _‘thump’_ , hearing a funny little noise and seeing Peter smiling in amusement. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” He wheezed, unable to help a smile of his own as he saw the boy’s.

Climbing back onto the couch, Wade huffed softly and sat there to simply admire the messy mop of brown hair on Peter’s head -- and how cute it was that his XL Lion King shirt was swallowing him up.

“Duuuude,” Peter croaked softly, suddenly climbing off of the armrest and onto the couch, licking his lips and flashing four sharp teeth at Wade.

Wade’s eyes went from sleepy-soft to wide in a second, “ _My_ what big, sharp teeth you have…”

Peter smiled wide and blinked, revealing a second smaller set of eyes on his temples, both pairs now pitch black in colour.

Oho, _boy_.

“Oh, baby, and here I thought you couldn’t get any sexier,” Wade laughed softly, forcing himself up with a grunt and stretching, “You hungry or what? Is that why you’re eyein’ me up like a piece of meat?” He had memories of himself eating pancakes and bacon that he didn’t recall himself, and knew.

Standing with Wade and following him closely to the kitchen, Peter clicked happily, instantly curious of everything. While Wade went about searching for a pan, he could hear Peter puttering around behind him, looking through cupboards and touching everything he found.

“I’m not really home much due to my job, so a _normal_ kitchen is usually stocked full of different things,” he explained as he placed a pan on the stove, “But, I got the essentials! Like Doritos, soup, ramen--” He looked over his shoulder as he heard cardboard rip, and caught Peter about to pour an entire box of mac ‘n cheese into his mouth, “--and KD.” He finished, watching with a smitten smile as the macaroni spilled into Peter’s mouth and face and then onto the floor.

Peter crunched the noodles between his sharp teeth with a thoughtful look, and then looked to Wade with a scrunched face and wide eyes.

“They’re a lot better when you cook ‘em and mix it with powdered cheddar cheese and a dollop of butter, babe. But, I guess if you prefer that, I can buy you dried pasta in bulk.”

Peter chirped with a head shake before tossing the box away, reaching up for a can of soup and sniffing the aluminum with a wrinkled nose. Fangs bared, ready to pierce, Wade was quick to reach and snatch it out of his hand - which earned him a defensive hiss in response.

“Easy, tiger!” He said as he placed the can back into the cupboard and shut it, “Since you’re _so_ hungry, how about...” Shit, what could he offer a hangry alien?

Stumped for a moment, Wade looked around his kitchen before it came to him. Going over to his pantry and opening it up, he grabbed the bag of Doritos and turned to Peter - who, in turn, stared at the red bag suspiciously.

“It’s not gonna bite you, sweetums,” he smiled before shaking the chips a little.

The boy wrinkled his nose as he eyed the loud, red bag. But, when Wade finally offered it to him, he snatched it with a fast motion and began to sniff it. He made that gentle clicking sound in the back of his throat before ripping it open, pulled out a triangle chip, and sniffed _that_ with a curious look.

It’s almost too much for Wade to handle, and he squeed just a little bit.

“Doritos are amazing, trust me. Try it.” He coaxed.

There’s a tiny ‘crunch’ that fills the silence in the kitchen, and it’s followed by happy clicking.

Wade grins as he watches the boy stuff another Dorito into his mouth, and goes back to preparing the pancakes.  


++  


Five stacks of fluffy heaven later, Wade pulls his mattress out from his bedroom and places it in front of the TV in the living room, all while Peter watches him quietly from the couch. He’d shifted back into this human appearance for the time being, and he kept the bag of Doritos clutched to his chest as he licked each chip before stuffing it into his mouth.

“Okay!” Wade announced as he dropped his blankets and pillows onto the bed, “Since you’re not from here and need to lay low for a bit, I figured we could stay in and watch some movies and catch you up on Earth….etiquette.” That sounded about right, right? Either way, this had always been one of Wade’s dreams. Just this, a beautiful boy who was clueless to all things pop culture and a comfy place to enjoy it all as it unfolded.

Peter crunched another chip before placing the bag aside delicately, sucking on his fingertips as he climbed down onto the bed and began to set it up. He reached out and pulled the couch flush to the mattress with an insane amount of ease, and placed the pillows against it.

He knew Wade’s favourite way of having a bed in the living room and Wade felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

“ _Christ_ , you just keep getting better and better, don’t you?”

Peter smiled and shrugged.  


++  


Being connected in this way with an alien was unlike anything Wade was used to. Peter knew when he was hungry, thirsty, bored - he was so attentive. And Wade was slowly becoming familiar with Peter’s needs, as well. He was like a sponge, constantly learning and absorbing new information, and he felt everything so differently.

He chalked it up to Synesthesia. Peter’s perceptions and receptions leaked into his own at times; a Carly Rae Jepsen song tasted like cherry fruit gushers and that had fucked with him in a really good way. It was fun, and Wade hadn’t had this much fun in such a long time.

They shared thoughts often, but it was a one-way street -- Peter seemed to push a certain understanding into Wade’s brain whenever he needed to voice himself, either in images or memories, or very rarely, words. He knew English, and perhaps human vocal cords were something he couldn’t replicate easily because of his species, but somehow he was still _learning_ it. He could read easily enough, perhaps it was because of Wade’s memories. But, it was easier to not use words with Peter anyway, because of their connection, and if that wasn’t gay as shit then Wade didn’t know what was.

They’re on their fourth day together, fine tuning Peter’s human qualities like his walk and the details of his face. Wade showed him pictures of freckles and birthmarks and let him go to town. He’d ended up with little dots along his body and face, with a darker one on his left cheek that Wade adored. He made himself some proper ears and softened his muscles and skin, too.

“I think you should at least know the basics when it comes to interacting with strangers,” Wade hummed as he sat up from his reclined position amongst the pillows, gently nudging Peter’s side. The boy was sitting up, his leg folded into his chest with his chin resting atop it while the other leg was curled under the other. He turned his head to rest his cheek against his knee and stared at Wade curiously, tossing away the solved Rubik’s cube.

“Currently you sound like a stoned surfer trying to mug someone - which is _adorable_ \- but maybe a nice little ‘yes’ and ‘no’ would help make interactions smoother, hm?”

Peter lifted his head and made a soft buzzing sound in his chest, nodding after a moment of thought.

“Perfect. Repeat after me: hello.”

The boy scrunched his nose a little as he made a hum, for the ‘H’, and then formed his lips around an ‘O’, and did it a few more times before smiling at Wade and proudy saying, “Ho!”

“Good job! Sexual humiliation can be for later, though. You forgot the ‘E’ and ‘L’, baby cakes. Try again.”

It took them a few tries before Peter managed, “Hello,” with a croaky voice. It was a tiny bit creepy, Wade had to admit, but it was _also_ so-out-of-this-world cute.

They manage to nail ‘yes’ and ‘no’ as well, because those are crucial, but Peter grows bored quickly and prefers to go to Wade’s room to try on each article of clothing he owns.  


++  


The hardest part was sleeping. They slept together on the bed that second night, and have ever since. It wasn’t Wade’s decision, either (surprisingly). Wade had climbed up to the couch with every intention of sleeping there, but he’d been stopped by a hand gripping his ankle and Peter’s big puppy dog eyes.

Sleeping with Peter was hard because when Wade was tired and ready to pass out, Peter wasn’t. He’d stay awake on Wade’s phone, scrolling quietly with tired eyes and fighting his sleep, not wanting to miss a single thing. He browsed site after site, learned how to type to search whatever Wade made reference to or what he wanted to know that Wade wasn’t sure of. He was downright addicted to the thing. But, after the phone’s screen went black and it slipped out of the boy’s limp hand, Wade was able to finally slip into sleep, too.

And they fit like puzzle pieces, waking up in the weirdest positions of Wade splayed like a starfish while Peter laid horizontally, legs thrown over Wade’s stomach and snoring softly -- or Wade crowding the boy towards the edge, leaving almost the entire bed free. And the weird thing was that it _wasn’t_ weird. Ever since he lost Vanessa, he’s not bothered with trying to find anyone. No one could replace her, not Colossus or Cable or _anyone_. He’d been content with himself and his work and not confronting it.

And yet, fate brings Peter to him and within seconds, Peter knows him almost inside and out. He fits right in, makes Wade happy, and he’s like a breath of fresh air after sitting in a musty old room for so long.

And perhaps he feels a teeny tiny bit guilty, when he’s not busy selfishly enjoying every moment he can with him. He can’t help but wonder what Vanessa would think of Peter, if she’d approve. He keeps his hands to himself, but when he wakes up he finds himself holding onto the boy like his life depended on it, and quickly moves himself away. Peter doesn’t seem to mind, maybe doesn’t notice.

And that’s fine - perhaps it’s better that way.

++  


They manage a total of six days hiding away in Wade’s apartment before The Dream. While it was so much fucking _fun_ watching Peter discover mundane things and eating every single take out option Wade ordered for them, there had been a sudden change in him. He’d gone quiet the day before, barely interacting and thinking a lot. He barely ate, too -- and Wade didn’t want to push it, didn’t want to prod, but he knew there was something on his mind. He’d moved the bed back into the bedroom and tidied up, hoping to distract himself from the quiet little alien on his couch.

It went like this: the night of their fifth day, Wade slept fitfully yet deeply; visions and tastes and sensations surrounded him and he watched everything in a daze. This wasn’t his dream - it was Peter’s. He was searching desperately for something, something he knew was important, and the panic running through his body was making him forgetful.

_Where is it? Where could it be? If I can’t find it, then…_

There it is. He scoops it up carefully, this strange opal thing, and clutches it close before rushing off with a murderous being screeching close behind.

They both woke immediately after, wide-eyed and panting, throwing the sheets around to look for the object. Wade snapped out of it first, sitting on the bed and watching Peter climb up the wall to the ceiling, pressing his forehead to it and breathing hard.

“Pete,” Wade breathed, staring up at the boy, “What...where is it?”

Peter thumps his head against the ceiling once, twice, in disbelief of himself.

_Missing._

Memories, passed down from generations and now, something like saeculum. No one existed except Peter and all he had left were these transformative and important memories to remind him of where he came from. Thinking back, Wade had noticed it just the other day that while Peter knew a lot of Wade’s memories, Wade didn’t know much of Peter’s -- but that was because they weren’t there in his consciousness, not all of them. They were unconscious and detached, in that opal thing.

And it was missing.

“Well,” he licks his dry lips, his resolve doubling for both of them, “I guess we gotta find it, huh?”

Peter looks down at him from over his shoulder, his face pinched so prettily, and Wade holds his arms out for him.

He falls into his arms again with a grunt from the Merc, and curls up in Wade’s embrace, making these soft buzzing sounds in the back of his throat which Wade knows means that he’s thinking. Peter doesn’t offer anything to him, and so he takes the time to simply hold him, careful and gentle.

Then, Peter lifts his head, almost knocking Wade in the jaw, and stares at the disfigured man with wide eyes.

Wade blinks, narrowing his eyes a little as he takes the idea in and mulls over it, “You...want to go back to where you landed?”

He nods, plush mouth pursed, like an adorable determined puppy.

“Do you even know where that is, pretty boy?”

The pretty boy chirps and climbs out of Wade’s lap, a vision of a park flashing in Wade’s mind that he knows.  


++  


While the sense of urgency didn’t die down from Peter, they had to wait until sunset to move. It was safer for both of them, so it was dark out by the time they finally arrived at the park. There seemed to be no one around either, so they made a beeline towards the trees surrounded by bright yellow tape. Wade had slipped back into his suit for the time being, just in case, while Peter wore dark clothing with a hood pulled over his head. Nothing looked out of place except for the earth that had been dragged and ripped up from his dearest angel, and Wade gave a low whistle as he peeked over the tape to asses the damage.

Peter elbowed him in the ribs with a sharp little look for that, and Wade chuckled.

“Well,” he hummed, taking another quick look around before hooking his gloved forefinger under the tape and lifting it, “Shall we, bubble butt?”

The scent of the forest was of metal and moss, topped off with the pungent scent of dirt. Wade followed the boy along the crash site, pulling out his phone for the flashlight and frowning as they found the crater. It wasn’t very deep, a foot or two at most, but Peter crawled back in and curled up in the dirt before closing his eyes with a shallow breath.

His eyes opened again and he reached to the right, digging into the dirt with just his fingers at first before using both hands to dig around silently. After a moment, he sighed in disappointment and looked up at Wade.

“Not here, hm?” Wade frowned, but then cracked a smile from underneath his mask, “How about we take a walk down memory lane and go visit that dumpster, hm?”

Peter climbed back out and wiped his hands clean, glancing up as Wade wiped a smudge of dirt from his cheek with his thumb sweetly.

“ _Ugh_ , do alien-angels kiss where you’re from?” Wade teased, utterly hopeless.

Those doe eyes narrowed playfully as Wade was suddenly reminded of every single kiss he’s ever had, and while it rips his heart apart just a lot, it also left him just as much breathless.

“Can’t wait to add you to the collection, Petey…” he breathes.

Peter takes his hand and leads them back to the tape, but he stops as he touches it, rubbing the strange material between his fingers as he eyes the words written on it. He turns and looks at the other man, brows pinched again as he thumbs over ‘S.H.I.E.L.D.’, murmuring, “Wade…”

And Wade’s eyes widen as he looks at the tape then to Peter, “They took your memory thingy, didn’t they?”

Peter only shrugs, looking a tad uncertain. Man, what a can of worms they were about to open up.

Wade lets Peter duck under the tape first before following, and they decide to circle the area, just in case. While Peter watches the ground for the opal colour, Wade looks around the park, and catches sight of a man walking the same path. Except, he’s walking towards them, looking at the shrubs and muttering to himself. Once they’re close enough, Wade swings his arm around Peter’s shoulders and gives the man a once over from behind his mask.

He looks a little worse for wear, with a scruff on his jaw and his clothes mussed, and he barely glances at Wade before his eyes dart to Peter and a shiver goes down Wade’s spine.

Peter’s neck almost snaps with how fast he turns so he can stare at the passing stranger, looking over his shoulder and watching the man stalk away.

“You felt that freaky deaky vibe, too?” Wade asks once they’re far enough, letting go of the nodding boy as they reach the end of the yellow tape. “Keep going?”

And they do, taking their time. Wade pretends that he’s taking his sweetie out for a midnight stroll in the park, where they’ll neck on a bench under a street light and be interrupted by a police officer that tells them to get a move on.

Maybe in another universe, Wade sighs longingly.

By the time the tape comes back around from the other side, Peter still hasn’t spotted anything and he looks near tears for the first time. Wade stops him and grabs his shoulders, speaking softly, “Hey, stop, none of that. We’ll get it back in no time, okay? We’ll just go pay our nerdy little friends at S.H.I.E.L.D a visit and politely threaten them to give it back--”

“Did you say S.H.I.E.L.D?”

Wade whips his head to the left and sees the same man from before, coming out from under the tape.

A warning go off not in _his_ head, but Peter’s. He has this crawling sensation on the back of his neck and forearms, and if he had any hairs there he knows they’d be standing on end.

“Maybe I did. What’s it to you?” He asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothin’.” The stranger straightens and sniffs, and then frowns as he holds his phone’s flashlight up to shine in the duo’s faces, “Hey. You’re that Deadpool guy, right?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am, and you better get that light outta my boy’s face before I make you.” Wade threatens as he hears that familiar annoyed grumbling from Peter.

The light flicks off and it’s dead quiet, the man’s expression showing an internal conflict before he sizes up Wade and mutters, “Yeah. Bad guy.”

“So you’ve heard--” the words are barely out of his mouth before they die on his tongue, his eyes widening a little as black tendrils begin to cover the man’s body like tar, and he doubles, triples in size as razor sharp teeth close over his face and is replaced with large, white slit-like eyes.

_"We want to eat the little one too, Eddie,”_ the thing rumbles with a curl of its long tongue, closing the distance between them.

++


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this....a plot??

Before Wade can even reach for his katanas, Peter knocks him back a few feet and onto his ass with a solid fist to his chest. Stunned, Wade watches the creature from the black lagoon grab at Peter and (thankfully) miss, with the boy managing to duck under the large clawed hand and rush under the S.H.I.E.L.D tape to head back into the trees.

The tar monster yells after him with a frustrated roar and immediately takes chase, ripping the tape out of the way as he disappears into the trees.

Admittedly rather panicked, Wade scrambles to his feet and unsheathes his katanas, holding his breath to listen for sounds of struggle.

But there aren’t any, not right away. There’s growls and twigs breaking under foot, but then he can hear the sound of bones cracking and splitting, a wet gurgle, and then a high-pitched screech that makes Wade’s blood run cold.

“Peter!” He yells, ready to rush into the dark trees with katanas swinging, but stops as a creature is thrown out and hits the ground with a hard _‘thud’_ right in front of him.

It’s Peter, and he’s hurt, because his clicking is soft like a whine and Wade rushes over to him - only to be swiped at by the monster’s clawed hand, knocking him back _again_.

“Y’know, I’m getting _really_ sick and tired of landing on my ass!” He yells, rolling to the side as the monster lunges at him, spinning up to his knees and then jumping to his feet, slicing his katanas through the air as The Thing follows him.

He manages to keep one step ahead of the game, but can’t land a blow because of it, and grows more and more frustrated until he hears that high-pitched screech again and the monster lets out a pained sound of its own as its black jelly skin ripples.

Wade steps back and watches Peter jump onto the monster’s large body, silent and deadly now as he crawls around and up the thing’s back, settling on its shoulders just to wrap his long legs around its head, ready to fucking crush it between his thighs before it melts away and Peter falls to the ground with a hard _‘thud’_ again.

The head reappears and Wade switches his katanas for a handgun, cocking and aiming it with a single fluid motion - but hesitates as Peter gets up and jumps onto it again, fangs bared and black eyes wild.

And it happens so quickly that he doesn’t have time to really process it. The monster manages to grab Peter and has him in its claws, that mouth full of razor sharp teeth elongating as the tongue slides against _his_ boo’s face, ready to fucking chomp his pretty alien head off.

Nuh- _uh_.

Wade doesn’t hesitate to fire bullets into the thing’s head, even though it does nothing except spit them back out. At least it drops Peter onto the ground to focus on the Merc with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, come on!” He yells, releasing the empty mag onto the ground and stuffing another into the grip with practiced ease, “Listen, I know he’s looking like an absolute snack tonight, but _I’m_ the bad guy and he’s  _mine._ ” He pauses to cock his handgun and smile behind his mask, “So come get some.”

The monster crouches to lunge, but stops, and then the face ripples and pulls back to show the man behind it. He’s shouting in clear panic, “Wait, wait, _wait!_ Jesus Christ, V, _stop!_ ”

Wade frowns, confused and disappointed, but the monster shrinks and shrinks until it’s back inside the man.

“Fuck,” the man huffs, rubbing at his face as he stumbles back, muttering to himself just loud enough for Wade to hear, “How many times do we have to go over this, hm? We _share_ my body. We _listen_ to each other. When I tell you to stop, you stop.”

While they have their little argument, Wade looks over to Peter, who’s shifted back to his human form and is staring up at the man with the same confusion.

“Pete,” he calls softly, and the boy snaps his gaze to him before getting up and rushing over to him. Now close enough, Peter’s clicking softly and touching his mask, running his hands over Wade’s arms and chest to feel the bones and muscles in search of harm.

“I’m fine,” Wade huffs with amused disbelief, “You were the one taking a beating, are _you_ okay?”

Peter nods, and gives a look that he reads loud and clear as a sarcastic ‘ _seriously?_ ’.

“You’re right. How silly of me, to be worried about my dangerous alien-angel!”

“Hey,” the man calls, and the two look over to him, “Uh, I think the police are on their way. We should go.”

Wade hears the sirens then, and groans to voice his displeasure. “Yeah, I guess we should. But, before you disappear into the night, I wanna talk! I wanna know what the fuck just happened and why your creepy goo friend tried to kill us!”

The man makes a face, wrinkling his nose and squinting his eyes, but gives in with a single nod.

+++

They find a 24-hour diner not too far from the park, ducking inside and finding a booth in the back. They’re evading, not hiding! Wade ushers Peter into the booth first, and then follows suit, wanting his baby boy to be nice and safe between him and the wall. Even though he clearly didn’t need it.

The man, Eddie as he’d introduced himself on the way here, sits across from them and Wade gives him a good look-over now that they’re in proper lighting. He’s got a nice scruff going on, his hair a bit mussed from their fight, and a maybe the nicest pair of DSLs that he’s ever seen. He’s dressed inconspicuously, casual and dark, but he looks...hungry. And exhausted.

“So,” Wade hums, extending his arm over the back of the booth so it’s over Peter’s shoulders, “What the fuck?”

Eddie smirks, “Yeah, I have to ask the same thing.”

“But I asked first, so you gotta spill the beans!” He wasn’t playing around here. He’d assumed that Peter was the only alien he was going to encounter in this fic, and he’d never seen anything like that thing so he’s got some questions.

“I guess that’s fair,” Eddie hums, “What do you wanna know?”

“First question,” Wade holds up a gloved finger, “What is that thing inside of you? Second question, why did it try to eat us? Third question, can it hear me right now? Fourth question, are you getting dinner or breakfast food?”

Eddie’s brow lifts at that, but rattles off his answers, “One, I have a parasite. Two, it was hungry and you’re technically a bad guy in my books. Three, yes, and four: both.”

“Fascinating,” Wade breathes, “But I gotta call bullshit on the parasite thing.”

They’re interrupted by their waitress, who doesn’t seem at all bothered at a fully suited Deadpool, and takes their orders before disappearing into the back.

“He’s an alien from outer space, how about that? It seems like you’re pretty well acquainted with that sorta stuff.” Eddie nods his head towards Peter, who had been quietly staring at him the entire time.

The word ‘danger’ is shoved into his head and Wade looks over at Peter, who’s staring right back at him.

“Yeah, I definitely agree, but I have an idea so stick with me, ‘kay?”

Peter narrows his doe eyes at him but sighs his compliance.

Wade turns back to their new frenemy, “Okay, ask your questions.”

“One: is he an alien? Two: did he cause the crash site in the park? Three: you mentioned S.H.I.E.L.D earlier, do they have anything to do with my last two questions?”

Wade rubs at his masked chin with a hum, “Yes and yes.”

“You didn’t answer my last question.”

“Only because I don’t know the answer, either.” Wade folds his hands on top of the table and leans in to Eddie, “Why so curious, hm?”

“I’m an investigative journalist and I wanted to get away from home for a bit, thought there might be something worthwhile to investigate here.”

“Get away from home?” Wade echoes, “Or get away from a problem?”

Eddie’s face twists, “What?”

“You’re on the run ‘cause of the parasite, no?”

Eddie’s voice deepens and all but growls, “ _Not a parasite!_ ” before coughing into his hand and stating calmly, “No, I’m telling the truth.”

Wade and Peter share a look before looking back to Eddie, Wade speaking up again, “Alright, so you investigate stuff. You’re investigating the crash site cause...?”

“Personal reasons.”

“Come on, you can be honest with me! I’m probably the only other guy you’ve met with an E.T.”

Eddie hesitates, looks to be thinking, and takes a deep breath before saying, “We’ll start at the beginning.”

As they order and eat, Eddie tells his story about his beef with the Life Foundation and how he and Venom (what a weird fucking name for a parasite) met. It was a meet cute made of dreams - but still didn’t top his and Peter’s. He detailed everything about why he did what he did and yeah, alright, he wanted some space from his ex-fiancé so he could get over it and move on, but Venom was concerned about the amount of meteors hitting earth. They didn’t want other symbiotes arriving to fuck shit up for them after they were finally finding some semblance of normalcy together.

“I figure,” Eddie says as he stabs at some shredded hash browns, “We can’t check out every single crash site in America, but the odds of more of these guys coming here are higher _now_ than they will be in the future. Sorta like an earthquake and aftershocks, hm?”

“Hm,” Wade hums, now invested in watching Peter eat and how cute he was munching on that blueberry muffin. Remembering his plan, Wade snaps out of his trance and clears his throat, “Listen, Eddie Brock, I have a...proposition for you.”

“I don’t make deals with criminals, Deadpool.”

“Ah, but you see, it’s not Deadpool you’re making a deal with - it’s Wade Wilson!”

“Same thing?”

“Yeah, I guess - but you see, Wade’s got a softer side. A soft side for pretty and dangerous aliens, such as Peter here.”

“What are you getting at?”

Wade squares him with a look, even though it’s hidden behind his mask, “You want to know what’s crash landed on earth, and Peter’s searching for something he’s lost. I figure we can help each other out.”

Eddie at least looks interested as he wipes his mouth with a napkin, two empty plates in front of him, “How so?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D’s taken my sweetie’s belongings, and it’s very very important that he gets it back. They have a division for this sort of stuff, which probably has a database full of all sorts of interesting info nuggets...” he pauses for dramatic effect before continuing, “And the cool thing is, Pete’s a shapeshifter. He can turn himself into whatever and whoever he wants. I think if we combine that with your investigative-ness and my badassery, we could get answers and steal Peter’s memories back by breaking in and stealing the information from right under their noses!”

Peter hides his face in his hands while Eddie’s chewing slows to a stop, his brows furrowing.

“You wanna break into S.H.I.E.L.D.? And take their confidential info?”

“Did I stutter?”

Eddie snorts with laughter and Wade’s officially offended.

“I don’t see you thinking of anything better!” He nearly pouts.

“Wade, listen,” Eddie sighs, “I already have a symbiote up my ass, I don’t need S.H.I.E.L.D. up it, too.”

“You have a _what_ up your ass?”

Eddie ignores him, “You see, _this_ is why you’re a bad guy. You do illegal shit like this and think it’s okay! I should have let Venom eat you.”

“Isn’t murdering people via eating them alive illegal?! Why are you labelling me a ‘bad guy’, anyway, Light Yagami? Don’t tell me you’re playing god with your parasite!”

The reporter seems to have remembered where they are and how crazy they probably sound, so he huffs a breath and collects himself before saying calmly, “Venom needs to eat, and we’ve come to an agreement. He can eat thugs and criminals that are hurting other people, nobody else.”

“Pretty sure that’s playing god.”

“If it means at least one innocent person gets to go home safe, I don’t mind.” Eddie shrugs and makes a motion with his hands to show that he’s given up trying to defend himself. He was self-assured in ways Wade almost envied.

Almost.

“Anyway, I need a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer, ‘cause I’m gonna go ahead with my plan with or without you.”

“Can’t I think about it?” Eddie frowns.

“Um, sure. You get five minutes to ponder over it while I tend to my sweetheart.” And with that, Wade turned to Peter and gave him a smile. “Hey, how you doin’?”

Peter looked pensive, and forced that into Wade’s head. He was worried about Eddie and Venom, they didn’t know anything about the symbiote and he was clearly looking to eat something other than french toast and a cheeseburger. He didn’t want them to become Venom’s next meal.

“Relax,” Wade said softly, pressing the outside of his thigh against Peter’s, “Don’t worry your pretty head over anything, Petey pie. I’d never let him eat you.”

“Um,” Eddie spoke up, “So, hypothetically, if I did go along with your plan, how are we getting into the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters without being noticed?”

Wade turned to him again with a smile, “You and I are going to be taken in for questioning by whoever Peter decides to become for a hot sec.”

“And then what?”

Uh oh. “You’ve caught me at a very inconvenient time, Eddie. I can’t answer the phone right now--”

Eddie scoffed in disbelief, “You don’t have an entire plan thought up. Wow.”

“I literally _just_ thought of it, okay? It needs some work. What do you suggest, hm? Mr. Investigative Journalist?”  
  
The man sniffed and moved his mouth around as he thought, glancing between the two across from him before muttering, “Well, we gotta figure out where they’re keeping the data and any evidence from crash sites. What’s he missing, anyway?”

Wade glances over at Peter, who nodded, and Wade spoke, “His species has a hive mind sorta thing where they store important memories, and Peter’s the last survivor of his kind. It’s the only thing he has to remind him of home, and it’s important to him. From what I saw, it’s sort of like an opal.”

“From what you saw?” Eddie quirked a brow, “What, you were there?”

Wade blew out a breath and shook his head, “No, not exactly. Pete and I...um...he has this telepathic bond with me. I don’t know how he did it, but he showed me what he _does_ remember and how he got here. It’s hard as hell to explain in words--”

“No, I get it,” Eddie said with a look Wade couldn’t place, “The bond. I get it.”

Peter tilted his head to the side a little, his face thoughtful as he took in Eddie, who stared back at him. It was almost like a silent conversation.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Wade drawled, “We gotta figure out this plan ASAP, Brock. Who knows what they plan on doing to my boy’s memories, and he’d like it back sooner than later.”

“Right,” Eddie sighed, getting back on track, “How about we exchange numbers and meet up tomorrow? We can think on it a little more separately and decide the best course of action together.”

“So you’re in?” Wade grinned.

Eddie gave him a wry smile, “I might regret it, but yeah, I’m in.”

+++


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: I'm sorry to say but this fic is being discontinued. I've lost sight of my initial muse and can't seem to brainstorm enough to get around my writer's block. Thank you for all of your encouragement via comments and kudos, and I thought I would post what I've been sitting on for the past few months bc it makes me feel good, despite being short and sweet. Thank you again, and I apologize again and again!!

The walk home had become more of a walk around the city, as Peter was constantly distracted by  _ everything _ . He walked right into a restaurant and looked at everyone’s food before Wade took his arm and brought him back outside - only to have Peter stop and pet twin Dachshunds cautiously. At least the owner had been amused at how Peter had plopped himself down and let the dogs climb onto him. She had been weirded out by Deadpool more than the alien petting her dogs.

“C’mon, we gotta go!” Wade said, hauling Peter up after a few moments and continuing down the street, unable to help his smile as Peter’s hand gripped his tightly. 

Although the boy nearly dislocated his shoulder as he pulled Wade into a convenience store with probably the largest Dorito sign he’s ever seen.

The pain faded quick enough though, and Wade gave the man behind the counter a wave as Peter began his search.

“Pick whatever you want, babycakes! It’s on me!” He called to Peter, going over to look at the rack of magazines while he waited.

Except, he didn’t need to wait too long, as Peter came back with an armful of Doritos - all red. “You don’t wanna try at least one new flavour?” Wade hummed with a smirk, watching Peter shake his head.

“Alright, go put them on the counter, I’ll be right there.”

He flipped through a few pages of a magazine before he heard Peter’s voice, garbled as it was, and snuck over to the end of the small aisle to peek around the corner. Peter was standing in front of the counter and the man looked confused as he spoke, “I said, it’s gonna be $10.50,” the clerk said with a frown.

Peter hummed that deep buzz of his while he was trying to think of something to say, and then dug into his pocket with the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth - and pulled out Wade’s terribly old and expired Metrocard. He presented it with a smile and stated, “Multipass.”

Wade clutched at his heart and sighed dreamily. 

The clerk lifted a brow, “Uh, yeah, I’m gonna need money for these, man.”

Wade stepped in then, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulders and handing the clerk some cash, “You’re gonna have to excuse him, he’s not from around here and he’s still learning English. He’s from….Siberia.”

The clerk shook his head in disbelief and Wade grabbed their bag of Doritos before leading Peter outside, calling back, “Keep the change!” as they disappeared back into the night.

++++

He held Peter’s hand as they walked, swinging the bag of Doritos around happily and whistling a little tune - which Peter tried so very hard to imitate but ended up blowing raspberries instead.

“You are  _ too  _ cute, y’know,” Wade said with a smile, looking over at the boy as they stopped at a crosswalk. He admired his boy’s profile as Peter looked around, watching cars and pedestrians keenly - and he glanced up a sign before his gaze climbed and climbed, looking up at a skyscraper, his lips parting softly in awe. Wade followed his gaze, watched a plane fly overhead, and made a sound of surprise as Peter tugged him towards an alley.

“Aww, up for a bit of reminiscing, hm?” Wade teased, “Maybe this time don’t fall into a dumpster, ‘kay?”

But he didn’t have to worry about that, because Peter took their bag of Doritos and set it down gently, hidden behind some cardboard, and motioned ‘up’ with a finger pointed skyward. 

Wade blinked. And stared.

“You...wanna go up?”

Peter nodded.

“To the top of the building.”

Another nod.

“I don’t think it’s exactly open right now, baby--o _ h shit! _ ” He should have known.

Within mere moments, he was hanging onto his baby boy like Bella Swan clung to Edward Cullen. Peter climbed up the side of the building steadily and with a surprising amount of ease, his gaze full of intent as they climbed.

It took a few minutes, but soon enough, Peter all but tossed Wade over the edge of the building before climbing over himself. Wade righted himself and looked up, and then around the city, stunned into silence for a minute. He’d climbed onto plenty of building before, sat on the edge and admired the view - but never like this. He never climbed this high. And it took his breath away.

“Damn, Petey,” he finally muttered, looking over at this silent companion - who walked to the edge and sat down, his large eyes soaking up the city lights. Wade went over quietly and sat himself down next to him, pulling his mask up and off to really appreciate it all. 

They sat in companionable silence for a long time. Longer than Wade usually allowed.

But Peter was the first to break it, scooting himself over to lean against Wade and place his head on his shoulder. 

_ Trust. _

Wade felt a heavy, warm sensation settle in his chest as the thought appeared in his head, and he felt both nervous and calmed by it. 

“You trust me?” He asked softly, glancing down at the alien leaning against him.

He has visions of them - meeting, Wade tending to Peter’s healed leg, sharing memories, fighting, flirting, protecting one another.

Perhaps Peter’s trust wasn’t unfounded. He was on a strange planet in a strange body with a strange man, but he was hopeful and resilient in his search for the piece of his lost home.

And perhaps it was his fucked up trust issues battling with their telepathic bond, but Wade couldn’t help his state of confusion. He wanted to trust Peter, but he couldn’t find it within himself to do that - but he did. It was a loop of dead ends. All he knew for sure was the need to protect. Peter was vulnerable here, and he opened himself up to Wade in a way he’d never experienced before with literally anything, so Wade needed to keep that close and not let anything destroy it. 

++++

Wade woke the next morning with Peter watching him sleep, again.

“You remind me a lot of that python that stretched itself on the bed next to its owner to see if she would fit inside its body,” Wade croaked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

When he opened them again, he found Peter’s head on his chest and an arm thrown around his chest in a hug. 

“Ugh, morning cuddles are the best!” He squeed, wrapping his arm around Peter’s slender form, trying to calm the fast pace of his heart that he knew Peter could feel and hear.

It didn’t slow, and Peter simply shifted his head down to hear it. Wade wondered if he had a heart, too - and what it looked like. 

“Hungry?” He asked softly, although leaving the bed was probably the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Peter clicked softly before lifting his head to look up at Wade, his eyes wide but thoughtful as he stared. It was almost like deja vu, something Wade knew deep down in his bones where it had imprinted - and Peter knew it, too. Perhaps it was the bond, or the short time together that felt like eternity, or their time on top of New York last night, but he could see it in those big doe eyes.

And deathly quiet, barely breathing, Peter lifted his chin and pressed his mouth to Wade’s.

It was soft, but not chaste. 

Firm but giving.

Like a drop of water on a parched tongue.

And Wade couldn’t help it, he cupped the boy’s jaw and kissed him, not wanting to waste the moment he’d been given. Peter pressed back, unsure but eager - it was like an endless loop of feedback, not necessarily kissing himself but he felt Peter’s nerves and his intrigue, the good feelings of something new and exciting.

A first kiss.

The revelation makes Wade smile against the mouth on his, opening his eyes to see Peter staring back softly, pulling back just enough to smile back at him.

He can’t tell if its his chest or Peter’s that feels tight, and he can smell something like sweet vetiver faintly in the air as he takes in the details of Peter’s face.

“Am I allowed to ruin the moment yet?” He asks softly..

Peter gives him a look before rolling his eyes - and Wade gasped, taken aback.

“Where did you learn that! I never taught you to be cheeky!” He grinned, delighted, pulling Peter close again - and happily accepting another kiss. “Okay,” he murmured against that plush mouth, “I can get used to this…”

He’s teaching Peter the art of kissing with tongue when his phone begins to vibrate on the floor.

“Ugh,  _ seriously? _ ” Wade huffs, waiting as Peter rolled off of him before reaching down to paw at the ground in search of the damned thing. 

It’s Eddie, but before Wade can answer the screen goes black - and then a text appears.

“Found out some stuff through a connection,” Wade read aloud, “Meet us at the diner.”

Peter, all mussed hair and red-lipped, furrowed his brows and grumbled. 


End file.
